I Hope You've Reservationed A Room
by Sofa King Stupid
Summary: Suddenly Derek was being crushed by six burly Indian men. "I'm from Ontario!" One shot.


**Title: **I Hope You've Reservationed A Room

**Word Count: **718

This is inspired by a true story, honestly. I'll eventually post a prequel to this, I think, but it will be posted as a separate story. This sort of almost goes along with And Time Stood Still.

I know it's weird, but it's all Derek's pov. He's a very stereotypical person, and the Indians are poking fun at him at the end. Also, Equity is a made up town, and the title's grammar is intentional.

**Disclaimer: **Life With Derek belongs to people other than me.

**--**

"So, where you headed again?"

Derek fidgeted nervously. "Sacramento."

The van hit a bump- or possibly lost a muffler- and suddenly Derek was being crushed as six burly Indian men were thrown towards him.

He would have shrieked, but this had already happened a few times and his throat was starting to hurt. _Better save your voice for later, when they get far enough out into the desert, pull you out of the "car" and gang rape you, _said a tiny, spiteful voice in the back of his mind.

He squashed his paranoia and tried not to panic as the men took their time returning to their spots on the van floor, chuckling about bony white boys. He smiled shakily at them and jabbed Sam in the ribs. Sam, the incredibly deep sleeper that he was, slept onwards.

"Ah ha. That's cool. City boy." One of Them grinned.

"What were you doing so far out here, anyway?" Another questioned.

Derek hugged Sam's snoring body closer. "Oh, you know. Spring break. Indian taxi drivers… Camels." He paused, then quickly rectified. "But I mean like, curry Indians!, not, like, you.. casino Indians."

Even the two men in the front seat paused to turn and glance at him. Derek amended again, his voice rising a pitch. "I don't… I mean… I'm from Ontario!"

The Indians collectively 'aaaahed' in understanding. Then they hit another bump, and conversation was halted for another few minutes.

Once they were settled, again, Derek turned to check on Sam, only to find a pair of familiar brown eyes blinking awake. "Sam?" The other replied with a yawn that sounded affirmative. Then he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

He sighed in resignation, then turned back to the group. They were talking amongst themselves, but obviously They had some sort of sixth sense. Immediately They silenced and turned to face Derek. "Yes?"

He was officially unnerved. But They'd stopped talking for him, he might as well say something. Derek timidly spoke up. "So, umm, what did you say your names were?" _I want to know who my murderers are._

The largest man smiled. "We're Iroquois. I'm Little White Dove, and this is Running River." He gestured to the man closest to him.

Derek waited. And waited. The Indians went back to talking to each other. _What about the other six of you?!_ Derek wanted to shout, but that would probably make them mad.

He strained to look out the window, saw nothing but sand, and curled into Sam to wait for his death.

Two long, agonizing hours later, Derek was met not with death but the van coming to a stop. He looked up. "Did we lose the bumper again?" He mumbled. Halfway through the trip he'd realized that parts really had been falling off of the car.

Running River grinned widely at him. "No, man, we're in Equity, California!"

Derek frowned and looked out the window. Was that- no, it couldn't be… civilization!

Well, not really. It was the sort of dreary, dusty town that you expected to see cowboys in. It was fair sized, but so inexplicably depressing that it'd been deliberately left off of maps. _It's better for everyone if no one knows you're here. Eventually, hopefully the interbreeding will kill you all and we can put something nice here, like a Shell, or maybe a cactus or two._

But they had at least one working phone, which was good enough for him. Someone opened the van hatch and Derek jumped out, dragging a suddenly awake Sam along after him. "Wha?" Sam inquired, but was ignored.

The Indians milled about for a minute or so and then began to pile back into the back of the van. "You sure you're gonna be okay, red head?"

Derek nodded a bit too enthusiastically, and with that, the van pulled away. Out of their lives. Thank god.

"Okay, there's a bar right on that corner, I'll go call a taxi." Derek began, then stopped himself. "Pssh, I'm sure as hell never making that mistake again. I'm getting a limo." He left Sam standing in the middle of the road and jogged towards the building that held the key to their rescue.

Sam rubbed his eyes and shook a fist after the quickly disappearing van. "Damn foreigners."


End file.
